


No such thing as a dream life

by mondaysips



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheating, College AU, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Military AU, Voyeurism, klance, shklance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-07-13 06:56:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16012640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mondaysips/pseuds/mondaysips
Summary: Years of habits are suddenly shattered when his protege Keith brings home a new boyfriend, shocking Shiro to his core. Conflicted feelings and misplaced nostalgia resurfaces, messing with Shiro's mind and he can't help himself from complicating things some more.





	1. Eyes wide open

“This is Lance. He’s my boyfriend.”

Shiro blinks, looking at the duo standing on the other side of the table.

Keith looks as jaded as usual, black bangs falling on his face, his longer hair tied up in a small ponytail, arms crossed over his chest. He would have looked exactly the same way if he had announced they were out of milk.

The guy next to him, though, seems nervous. Tall and lanky, short brown hair and a tanned, smooth skin, he was standing unnaturally straight. “Lance McClain. Nice to meet you, sir,” he stuttered, waving a timid hand, his stunning blue eyes staring at him, waiting for a reaction.

But Shiro was speechless. When Keith told him he was going to bring someone over for dinner, he was understandably surprised; Keith has never been the friendliest of people – for years, he was kind of a recluse, actively sabotaging most of his relationships – and even if he knew he had made some friends in college, he never thought he’d see the day he’d invite someone over.

But even in his wildest fantasies Shiro would never have thought of _this_. He didn’t know Keith was into boys. He didn’t even know Keith was into people! Shiro was shocked to think he had a friend, but he’s bringing a _boyfriend_ out of nowhere?

“Aren’t you going to say something?” Keith raises an eyebrow, fingers tapping on his arm, patience running thin. Shiro snaps back to reality, closing his mouth that was slightly agape. He rises to his feet, putting his pen down on his paperwork. “Yes! Yes, of course, I’m just… I was focused.” He chuckles, slightly uncomfortable, and goes around the table to stand near the young men. He’s surprised to find that Keith’s boyfriend is just as tall as he is, if not slightly taller.

“Lance, is it? I’m Takashi Shirogane. Call me Shiro.” He smiles warmly, offering his left hand for a shake. “Don’t let my first reaction fool you; it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Lance seems relieved for a second, before offering his right hand in return and crumbling into panic as he realizes his mistake. Shiro has no right hand to shake: in fact, his whole arm is missing, the sleeve of his jacket neatly sewed over the stump of his shoulder. The shoulder pad marked in chevrons hangs over nothing and gives an unbalanced look to his silhouette. “S-sorry,” stutters Lance, quickly switching hands to take Shiro’s, face reddening fast.

“Oh my god, Lance,” mutters Keith, rolling his eyes hard. Shiro frowns slightly to such a cold attitude – shouldn’t he reassure his boyfriend in this situation? – but this is Keith, after all. Shiro won’t let this become awkward, though. He laughs kindly, shaking Lance’s hand with vigor. “No offense, Lance. It’s a reflex, it happens all the time.”

Lance smiles an apologetic smile and Shiro gives his shoulder some brotherly pats after taking back his hand. He glances back and forth in between Lance and Keith, smiling. “I was thinking pizza, for dinner. It’s been a while, right?” The last bit was addressed to Keith, who shrugs with disinterest. “Does pizza sound good to you?” Shiro turns to Lance, who answers quickly, as if under interrogation. “I love pizza!”

Shiro laughs. “Great. Then let me just clean things up, get changed, and we’ll order some.” He smiles, returning to his side of the table. Keith nods. “Cool. Come on Lance,” he says, tapping Lance’s shoulder with his knuckles before turning towards the hallway. Shiro gathers his paperwork, looking at the duo disappear in Keith’s room down the corridor, then allows himself a small sigh of relief.

Well, all things considered, this went pretty well. He could have used a heads up, though. He clicks his tongue, tapping the side of the pile of paper on the table to straighten them. He shouldn’t think this way: Keith probably had to muster a lot of courage just to let him know he was bringing Lance over.

It’s been this way ever since they started living together; Keith had a hard time asking for things. He felt selfish or greedy or was scared that he demanded too much, afraid he might be sent back again. Shiro’s happy to know they’re officially past that, if only slightly.

Shiro exits the dining room through the living room, going towards his desk. He puts his paperwork away, by rote, lost in his thoughts. So, Keith has reached a point in his life where he has a boyfriend. That’s… surprising. Did he make so much progress already? Shiro can’t help but feel a certain pride about it. He can’t take all the credits for Keith’s social abilities, but he was no stranger to it.  

He walks down the corridor, ignoring the bathroom’s door to dive into his own bedroom, just before Keith’s. He gets changed while reminiscing. How many years has it been, now?

Officially, they’ve been living together for 5… almost 6 years, now, isn’t it? But Keith was still in middle school when they first met, he thinks. Yes, that’s right. Shiro was doing his mandatory civil services as part of his training in the military.

He ran an after-school program for kids in Keith’s neighborhood. Keith showed up to every activity, but would never interact with the other kids, not even the ones from his foster home.

He was smart, talented and nifty but associable and quick-tempered. It didn’t take long for Shiro to notice that the boy was actually craving approval and interaction, but was only too socially awkward to get through to others. He lacked discipline and a sense of belonging; Shiro honestly didn’t have to push that hard for Keith’s foster family to sign him up to the local military high school. 

Shiro runs a finger on the air force insignia sewed on his jacket, once it’s put away on the coat hanger. He blinks, coming back to reality. He goes to his drawers and trades the formal military wear for bleached jeans and a loose tshirt – a Nasa logo on grey fabric, a souvenir Keith brought him back from a school trip.  

Shiro takes a second to look himself over in the mirror: he feared he made quite a stern first impression on poor Lance, wearing his sergeant attire, and was intent on correcting this image to a casual, more approachable look. Maybe a cool… uncle or something.

He fixes his white hair, spending a good minute on the unruly tuft at the front: it seems to be impossible to flatten, always puffing up and curling smoothly.

He finally gives up, going to the kitchen to find the pizza place’s pamphlet amongst a pile of restaurant delivery advertising. He holds it in between two fingers, taking the phone with the rest of his hand before making his way to Keith’s room: gotta ask the boys what they want to order!

He readies himself mentally, then raises his hand, trying to figure out if he should risk knocking on the ajar door with the bottom of his phone or twist his wrist to use a knuckle. But he gets quickly distracted by the voices inside: Keith seems on the defensive.

“-he’s gay, anyway.” Shiro only manages to catch the end of the sentence.

“What, really?” Lance’s voice seems to get quite shrill when he’s surprised.

“Yeah. He had a boyfriend, before.”

Oh. Seems they’re talking about him. This is awkward.

Shiro steps back a bit, hiding in the shadows of the hallway, as if they could suddenly sense him through the door. He doesn’t really know how he feels about this conversation: maybe its his military education, but he’s not one to easily speak of personal matter such as relationships or orientation.

If Shiro wasn’t going out with Adam when he became Keith’s legal guardian, the raven-haired boy might have never known anything of Shiro’s personal life. They did spend a lot of time together, the three of them… Shiro shakes off the wave of nostalgia: wow, how long has it been since he thought of Adam?

“Oh my god…” comes Lance’s voice, sounding quite tired now. “You should have told me that before! I was having an aneurysm over this.”

“Why?”

“Wh-? KEITH! That was your coming out, right? I spent all week preparing speeches and getting ready for a beating if it all went to shit!”

“What? Shiro wouldn’t have hit you, he isn’t like that-“

“Yeah, well I didn’t know that!”

“Oh.” Keith sounds as if he finally connected the dots. A brief silence follows before a sigh is heard. “Shit, Lance, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d… get that worked up over it.”

Well, Shiro will be damned: Keith apologized! And it was genuine! He marvels a bit in the hallway: he doesn’t know anything about that boy Lance, but whatever he’s doing, he’s doing _right_ , because it’s the sincerest conversation he heard from Keith since… since he can’t remember when!

“It’s okay, dude,” Lance throws casually, “it went well in the end, right? You didn’t have to be so nervous about it, either.”

“I wasn’t…” tries to protest Keith, but a telling silence falls on them. Shiro feels a smirk pulling his lips as he hears Lance’s clear laugh from the other side of the door.  Well, this is just heartwarming at this point. Aaaaand, that’s enough eavesdropping: he should make himself known now that the conversation took a lighter turn.

Without thinking, Shiro just pushes the door with his shoulder, walking in. He raises the pamphlet in the air, a smile on his face, but stops dead in his tracks as the boys kissing on the bed scrambles to opposite sides of the mattress as quickly as possible.

So much for not wanting to intrude on their privacy.

Keith’s face is flushed – Shiro isn’t quite sure if its from embarrassment or anger – as he glares at him. “Couldn’t you knock?!” he snaps, rubbing his lips on the back of his fingerless glove. Lance looks as if he’d want to fuse with the bedpost, blushing up to his ears.

“Sorry! Sorry...” Shiro gives an awkward smile, raising his hand in a soothing motion. “Yes, I should have knocked – definitely. Won’t happen again,” he looks pointedly at Keith, lowering his head in an apologetic fashion. He reaches for him, offering the pamphlet like a peace offering. “I just wanted to know which pizza you guys wanted.”

Keith glares at him still, but he snatches the pamphlet out of his hand. He huffs, obviously trying to calm down, as he cocks his head to the side, looking at the different options. “Lance,” he says, without looking up, “you like Hawaiian pizza, right?”

“Huh?” Lance turns around to Keith, leaning on the side to look at the pamphlet. “Yeah, but we don’t have to get it if-“

“Hawaiian pizza’s fine,” cuts Keith, looking up at Shiro. “We can order a half-half, right?”

Shiro smiles. “Yep. Hawaiian on one side, then. Pepperoni on the other?” He takes back the offered pamphlet as Keith nods. Shiro backs out of the room slowly. “Getting fries with that. Anything else?”

“A coke,” says Keith, before nudging Lance’s ribs with his elbow. “Dr. Pepper?” stutters Lance, uncertain of what to say and Shiro laughs. “Got it!”

He leaves them be, going back to the kitchen to make the call. He hears the door closing quite loudly, in the hallway, and grimaces: that was his bad, yeah.

Shiro places the order, then lets himself slump on the living room’s couch. He’s not gonna intrude on Keith and Lance again: they’ll have plenty of time to talk while eating, right? Also, he feels he’ll just make things awkward again if he goes over there.

He should have thought about it. It may be Keith, but he should have thought about... Promiscuity…  

But he has to admit he was shocked by the kiss. Well, not really by the kiss itself - of course any healthy 20-something in a relationship would share physical contact with their partner – but by Keith’s demeanor. As Lance was leaning into him, propping Keith’s chin with his fingers, Keith looked so calm, so relaxed, so… into it. Why is that surprising to him? Did he expect Keith to be reluctant? Give his boyfriend the cold shoulder? Gosh, he _is_ a proper adult now, not just a crabby teen with heavy trust issues: he’s turning 21 in a matter of weeks, even!

Shiro stares at the ceiling, almost catatonic. When did he fall out of the loop? He feels as if this whole development happened overnight, but it’s impossible; a guy like Keith can’t just suddenly trust someone that much. Then how come he didn’t see this coming at all?

Now that he thinks about it: how has Keith been lately? What was he doing? Can he even remember? Shiro hasn’t been doing _that_ _much_ overtime in the past few weeks either, so they did see each other and talk a lot. Everyday. Did he just… did he just fall into habits and stopped seeing Keith’s growth?

Holy smokes: he’s not even thirty and he already feels like a washed-up dad. 

Not that they have a fatherly relationship: they’re merely two individuals with mutual respect and affection to each other. Brotherly, at most. It’s not like he became his guardian with the motive of becoming a father: he merely wished for some stability in the boy’s life. Only a year into his high school, repeated clashes with his foster family brought them to the edge: Keith was being sent back again, to the county’s transitional home. Of course the boy has trust issues! He was being discarded, again and again, always criticized and never encouraged. Shiro just couldn’t bear it and stepped into the bureaucratic mess of the USA’s foster care system.

All things considered, it was quite a fast process and a few months later Keith was moving into the guest room of Shiro’s house. Adam was on edge about it all, but supportive of Shiro’s motives. He was the one to point out that he probably saw a bit of himself in the teen, and Shiro couldn’t say it was entirely false. He too was an awkward teen who had trouble to connect to people, with a strong determination that occasioned quite a few fights. He just wanted Keith to have support, to be comfortable and comforted, to have… a family. Shiro feels they are a family, Keith and him. But what exactly _are_ they? If he’s no father, nor brother…?

Luckily the headlights of the delivery car shine through the window as they pull into the driveway, bringing Shiro to his feet, or he’d have been stuck in some deep existential crisis for a few more minutes. God Bless Pizza.

“Food’s here!” he shouts towards the hallway, closing the door with his foot as the bored deliveryman pulls out of the driveway. The sound of the bedroom door opening tells him he’s been heard. Holding their order close to his torso, he makes his way towards the dinning room, noticing the soft drinks cans sliding slowly away from each other with the gravity shift of his steps. “Oh shit-“ he gasps, as when trying to balance it out, one of the can slips off the pizza’s carton.

But quick steps are heard and before the tin can hit the floor, Keith’s hand appears and catches it smoothly. “Got it,” he reassures him, rising up to take the other two cans with his other hand, freeing Shiro of his predicament. “Good catch,” compliments Shiro, laughing, finally setting the food down on the table.

“Just like spiderman,” comments Lance, following suit, pretending to be web-shooting at Keith. He looks at everything on the table, then slides towards the kitchen, looking for plates in every cabinet. A polite choreography of table setting takes place, before they all plop down to enjoy their meal. There is a few more minutes of good-mannered small talk going on before they all seem comfortable enough to speak normally.

Lance nudges Keith, grinning with his mouth full of pineapple pizza. “Hunk would be so mad,” he says, before trying to swallow his too-big-bite. Keith gives a slight shrug, picking at some fries. Lance turns to Shiro, who seems to be a more receptive audience. “He hates Hawaiian pizza. He’s always saying how its some god-awful creation made by a freaky Greek in Canada and that is shouldn’t be called Hawaiian pizza at all – I think it’s a fun story to tell and it makes me likes the pizza even more.” He takes a bite to punctuate his story. Shiro laughs, glancing at Keith. “Is that your classmate Hunk? You two know each other?” he adds, turning to Lance again.

“Yeah, he’s my best bud.” Lance’s eyes are alight, his smile wide ; obviously he loves his friend Hunk a great deal. Shiro takes his soft drink, asking away before taking a sip ; “Did he introduce you guys?”

Keith’s head snaps up, cheeks turning red, but Lance frowns slightly, laughing. “What? No. We’re in the same classes, Keith and I.” Shiro blinks, putting his drink down.

“Oh, sorry,” he says, giving a slight shrug. “Keith did a lot of teamwork with Hunk, so that must be why I remember him most.”

Lance frowns, turning to Keith. “I mean, I was there too,” he seems confused. “You never did a project with Hunk I wasn’t a part of, right?”

“So I didn’t talk of our group projects; big deal,” Keith mumbles, hiding his embarrassment behind his can of coke.

Shiro can tell he created some issues and speaks up quickly, trying to smooth things over. “I guess it’s good he didn’t talk about you ; it means you did your parts alright. Keith only talked of Hunk who was anxious and of that one annoying guy,” he concludes, laughing a bit.

But by the silence that answers him, he knows he fucked up.

“You didn’t even tell him my name?!” That shrill voice again. Lance looks at Keith, insulted. “And, wha- I’m annoying? You’re the annoying one!”

“How am I the annoying one?!” Keith snaps right back, face flushed. Shiro’s eyes are wide: he didn’t know things would escalate this way. Lance dropped his pizza slice in his plate, expressive hands fluttering aggressively around him as he speaks. “ _You’_ re the one always brooding, acting like an ass when your ideas aren’t the ones we go with-“

“Yeah, well at least I’M giving good ideas instead of saying whatever the hell goes through my mind when we’re trying to work-“

Shiro puts his can down, raising his hand to try and calm things: he did put his foot in his mouth, after all. “Guys,” he begins, as the bickering grows, but suddenly Lance grunts, taking a small fist of fries before throwing them dismissively at Keith’s face. Keith blinks blankly as the fries hit him before falling squarely on the table. Uh-oh. Shiro opens his mouth, ready for some good old logical and disciplinarian speeches to keep Keith from a fit of rage.

But Keith laughs. A small puff of air that turns into giggles as he picks the fallen fries to throw them back at Lance. “Fuck you,” he says affectionately, resting his elbows on the table. Lance flips him off, laughing, before taking back some tossed fries to throw them in his mouth. “Eww.” Keith shakes his head, and his gaze meets Shiro’s. He blushes, looking slightly panicked. “I mean- Frack.”

Shiro burst into laughter. The boys look at him, surprised, but they smile too in the end, obviously relieved that their squabble didn’t put a damper on the night. Shiro grabs the bag of fries.

“I’ll get some more before you throw them all over the place,” he muses. Lance raises an eyebrow; “Is that a challenge?”

“No,” replies Keith, taking a fry to shove it in Lance’s mouth. “No, it’s not.”

 

* * *

 

As Neo raises his hand, on the tv screen, and stops Agent Smith’s bullets in the air, Pidge’s chuckles are heard.

“Stop,” she says, holding her hand out in the same pose as Neo. “In the naaaame of love~” sings Lance, soulfully, and everyone _loses it_. Even Shiro is laughing heartily, bending forward in his armchair.

In the dark living room, slowly becoming loopy due to their sleepiness, the group is not paying as much attention as they should to the climax of the movie. It’s the third one they’ve watched this evening: the theme is “Movies Keith has never seen, but should have”. They started with Karate Kid – Hunk’s choice – moved on to Terminator – Lance’s choice – and are now continuing with the Matrix – Pidge’s choice. They planned on finishing with Shiro’s pick, but he told them he didn’t have time to choose one: the truth is, he was kind of embarrassed of the movies he liked and wasn’t sure what to pick.

It’s been a while since Shiro was part of such a casual activity. With work, and Adam, and Keith and his sickness; he just stopped going out, couldn’t find time for others. He lost contact with most of his friends – Matt is probably the only one he’s still in touch with and he’s been shocked to see that the famous I’m-so-smart-I-skipped-grades “Pidge” that Lance and Keith have been talking about was his only friend’s little sister, Katie. Small world. He was a bit weirded out at first, to be an old man hanging out with youngsters, but after a few hours he realized that the few years separating him from them are not as much as he first thought. It feels nice to hang out with friends.

The laughter dies down a bit, just in time for everyone to react to Agent Smith exploding from the inside. “Kaboosh!” screams Hunk, stealing the popcorn bowl from Lance’s hands. Instead of protesting, Lance stretches backward to try and grab the Twizzlers on the side-table.

They all look like a joyous mess. Lance is draped over the sofa, head resting on Keith’s thighs as his legs casually curve over Hunk’s. Pidge is on the floor – even though they all told her she could sit on the other armchair just fine – with a pile of pillows and a big blanket, hoarding most of the candies like the gremlin she is. Shiro is the only one on the armchair, but he’s still close enough to Keith’s side to be able to pick up the Twizzlers and put them in Lance’s grabby hands.

Lance smiles a radiant smile, thanking him before putting a red liquorice in his mouth. Shiro looks at him as he pulls out another liquorice, poking Keith’s face with the tip of it to bother him. He pulls it away every time Keith tries to bite it. Keith looks annoyed, but, really, he’s enjoying this little game: else he would have stopped trying to bite it off a long time ago.

All of this – movies, candies and friends – it was Lance’s idea. When he came over to Shiro, while Keith was showering, and told him about his project of getting Hunk and Pidge at a movie night for Keith’s birthday, Shiro was confused, the first thing coming out of his mouth being:

“That’s nice, Lance, but Keith hates surprises.”

“Oh, I know,” had replied Lance, opening wide eyes. “It’s not a surprise: I’m asking if you want to join us.” Shiro opened his mouth to answer, but his brain was still processing.

Shiro had slowly come to terms with the idea that Keith would probably celebrate his birthday elsewhere, this year. Over their years of cohabitation, they had built this tradition of quietly partying, just the two of them, but with Lance there, now, he had thought…

“Sure,” he replied, smiling. “Want to do it here? We got a big couch,” he added, chuckling and Lance’s smile got wider. “That’s what I was hoping for,” he confessed, distractedly lining the apples in the fruit bowl. “I think Keith would feel more comfortable at home than at, like, Hunk’s place. And it’s for _his_ birthday, so, yeah.”

Shiro had considered what Lance had said, looking at him fidget with the fruits, and was once again overpowered by this rush of appreciation for the guy. A feeling that visited him quite often.

Ever since that first evening where Keith introduced them, Lance has been coming over frequently. Sometimes just a few hours, sometimes for a meal, and sometimes for whole days. Shiro quickly noticed Lance’s qualities: despite being childish and whiny, he was also positive, smart, helpful and funny. But most importantly: he knew Keith very well. And that fact kept blowing Shiro away.

To him, Keith and Lance’s relationship was only a few weeks old and he kept having the reflex of butting into their conversations or intervening in their squabbles. But the boys have obviously been going out for way longer than that; Keith isn’t the type of guy to celebrate (openly) relationship milestones, but Lance did mention something about a five-month anniversary once. Even though it was still vague enough that Shiro wasn’t certain of how long they’ve been a thing, it gave him an idea.

And as much as he was impressed with Lance, he was surprised by Keith. Shiro somehow kept expecting him to lose his temper, if only because of embarrassment, but Keith had a rather good control of his emotions.

As they shared the same space more, the three of them, Shiro also noticed Keith became more comfortable interacting with Lance in front of him. Of course, he still avoided most physical contact, but he no longer tried to hide his smile to one of Lance’s jokes or tell Lance to shut up when he spoke of something slightly embarrassing to him. This led Shiro to believe that outside of the house, Keith and Lance probably fought way less than what he had witnessed.

It made him really curious about them. In the face of all of this obvious chemistry and such growth on Keith’s part, Shiro couldn’t help but feel glad about their relationship… and slightly irritated.

He knows its bad. And he can’t quite understand why. But seeing Keith spend more and more time with Lance and dealing with his issues all by himself, it just makes him feel… lonely? He guesses? And he feels guilty to feel this way, especially since he just wants to hug Lance in gratefulness every time he makes Keith laugh.

Just like right now, as Lance keeps moving the Twizzler away, dragging Keith’s face closer and closer to him. Keith is smiling, face lit by the strong greens of the movie, now fully invested in the challenge of getting the liquorice from Lance.

Shiro’s heart thumps hard. There is… another reason why he feels guilty. He knows what Lance is doing, right now. And its why he keeps looking at them. Lance keeps taunting Keith, faster, forcing Keith to bend closer and closer, until Lance can just raise his head slightly to press his lips to Keith’s. Although taken by surprise, Keith soon melts into the kiss, responding to Lance’s moves. In the comfortable secrecy of the dark room, everybody’s attention taken by the movie, he lets himself act out on his desires.

But not everyone’s looking at the screen. Shiro is staring at them. He has been for the past hours, always trying to catch a glimpse of their intimate moments. He craves for them.

As Lance spent more time over, Shiro spent more time observing Keith and him. At first, it wasn’t consciously: he would just glance over to them as he did his paperwork, pen in his mouth, and would lose track of time as he spied on their closeness, until the pen would drop and bring him back to his tasks. But then he did become self-aware, and yet he still couldn’t stop himself. Seeing the boys touch each other, casually leaning or teasing – or kissing – just made a cocktail of emotions burst in his chest. Nostalgia, longing, jealousy, need for intimacy…

He’s just pent up, he would tell himself, and he’d brush the issue away, not thinking about it until he caught himself doing it again. How long has it been since he had something like that? His last serious relationship was with Adam – almost 5 years now – and he sure didn’t share that kind of closeness with the brief partners he’s had since. And he misses it. For the first time in a while, Shiro thought of finding someone. He should go to a bar. Or install Tinder on his phone: Matt did show him how easy it was to use.

Pidge’s whooshing sounds as Neo flies up to the sky, makes Keith break off the kiss, straightening himself to look at the TV, watching the credits roll. Shiro’s disappointed. He looks at Keith’s face – how can he go back to looking neutral so fast? He was kissing Lance so sensually mere seconds ago – then look down at Lance. The Cuban boy is stretching slowly, the neck of his shirt yawning so wide that Shiro can see his smooth torso and the faint hint of muscles working under the skin. He didn’t notice he was staring until the animated part of the credits fades to leave place to the white text on black screen, darkness settling on them all. Shiro blinks, looking away.

“So, Keith, what didja think?” comes Hunk’s voice, the big guy turning towards Keith on the couch. Keith shrugs, a small smile on his lips. “Those certainly were movies.”

“Aww, come on Keith,” begins Hunk, but Pidge continues quickly : “Just tell us which you preferred, we made a bet.”

Keith does that laugh where he just pushes air through his nose, looking down at Lance. “Is that so?”

“Guys!” that’s Lance, grunting from Keith’s elbows digging into his chest. “Why did you tell him?!”

“Because I want my money,” scoffs Pidge, smiling deviously. “Come on, Keith, just say which one.”

Keith shakes his head, disbelieving, but glares at Lance as he speaks. “Sorry Lance, but Terminator wasn’t my thing,” he starts, a smile on his lips, “I liked Karate Kid much more.”

“Aw, shucks!” Keith frown, hearing Hunk sigh in disappointment while Lance’s face light up. “Really?!” exclaims Pidge, throwing her hands in the air. “What, what’s going on?” Keith looks at them in the darkness and Lance laughs. “Well, babe, _I’m_ the one who bet on Karate Kid,” explains Lance, all smiles, just before falling to the ground as Hunk pushes his legs overboard.

“Don’t be a sore loser!” shouts Lance, sitting up on the floor. Hunk gets up, before shrugging, stepping towards the light switch on the wall: “I’m full of sugar, I’ll do what I want.” The lights flick on, blinding everyone for a moment. Pidge grumbles, emerging from the blanket like a butterfly from a cocoon – a disheveled and grumpy butterfly. “Well, that was a waste of time. Happy birthday, Keith!” she finishes with a smile. Keith laughs getting up too. “Yeah, thanks. Sorry you couldn’t make money. What did you bet on?”

“Matrix. Hunk was stupid and bet on Lance’s movie ‘cause he thought you’d choose it to make him happy,” she points Hunk with her thumb, saying that. Hunk crosses his arms. “Hey, don’t call me names, I’m your lift.”

“What are you going to do?” she asks, raising an eyebrow, “leave me here?”

“No, but I could trap you in my car and make you listen to Rick Astley on a loop for hours,” he replies menacingly. Pidge turns to the others : “It’s time for us to leave, I think.”

“Yeah, yeah I think it is,” says Lance, laughing. He gets to his feet, and stretches before walking to the entryway, Hunk, Pidge and Keith following him.

Shiro’s up too, but he figures he’s not meant to walk the boy’s friends out. He starts to clean up a bit, putting torn candy packages in an empty chips bowl and throwing Pidge’s pillows on the couch where they belong. He can hear the group speaking and laughing through the wall – Keith sounds happy – but he has something else in mind.

 _Babe_. When Lance said the word, Shiro felt a shiver go down his spine. He swears he could feel the hair rising on his arms. Suddenly, he could picture Lance around campus, calling Keith over with a “Hey, babe!”, so casual, manly and nonchalant, throwing his arm around his shoulders like it’s no big deal. Keith didn’t seem to mind the petname : is he used to it? Does he like it? Wait, does he say it too? Does Keith have a petname for Lance? Lance seems like the kind of guy who’d love to be given a petname; when you notice how much he looks at Keith for any sign of affection, you know he’d _melt_ if Keith were to call him babe. It seems natural for Lance to say it, but how would Keith do it? Does it sound awkward, like he thought way too much about it? Or does it flow smoothly past his lips as he kisses Lance, in these moments where there are no witnesses around? _Babe_. Gosh, he can almost hear it in Keith’s voice. Shiro’s face is getting hot.

But he shakes those thoughts out of his head quickly as Pidge’s and Hunk’s heads pop out from behind the archway, all smiles. “It was nice to spend time with you!” says Pidge, waving a hand. “Thanks for hosting us, it was nice to meet you,” adds Hunk, as polite as ever.

Shiro smiles, putting the bowl down to wave too. “Don’t mention it : it was fun. Come back whenever you want.”

“Oh, we will,” assures Pidge, pushing her glasses back on the bridge of her nose, “now that we know where Keith lives.” Her mischievous smile disappears behind the wall as she waves her hand once more. “I’ll tell my brother hi for you!”

Shiro laughs. “Thanks!” 

The sound of the door opening and closing, and a brief second of silence indicates the exit of the duo. The lights of Hunk’s car shine through the windows as Keith and Lance come back into the living room, talking.

“So you bet on that one because you thought I wouldn’t pick your movie?” was asking Keith, an eyebrow raised.

Lance scoffs. “No. I just knew you’d like that movie the best is all. A mentor teaching values and kick-ass combat skills to a bullied teen so he can get his revenge on the world? Sounds like your jam.” Lance looks at Shiro as he concludes and Shiro feels as if it was addressed to him also. Keith stares at Lance, looking surprised, then cracks a smile. “Yeah, it is my jam.”

Lance smiles, picking up the discarded popcorn bowls. “Told ya I knew ya,” he says, turning his back to them to clean up.

Shiro feels again this tinge of jealousy burning his heart. He tries to shake it off, turning his head and catches Keith looking his way. He holds his gaze and Keith blinks and spins, going to Lance to help with the cleaning. What was that about?

 

* * *

 

Holding all of his keychain in the palm of his hand so that it won’t jingle, turning the key painfully slow in the lock, Shiro sighs of relief when he finally opens the door to the house. It’s been a while since he’s come home so late: it’s almost tomorrow already!

He steps inside carefully, placing his keys silently on their hook before grabbing his suitcase on the porch to bring it in. The door is closed as noiselessly as it was opened. Anyone seeing this obviously practiced quiet routine could assume Shiro was an expert at coming home drunk from wild parties, but the truth is that he’s a workaholic with a roommate who’s a very light sleeper.

Anytime he’d do some overtime and come back late, a grumpy and tense teen would pop out of his room to berate him in the hallway, criticizing his overwork and whining about his lack of sleep. So Shiro adapted himself: he quickly found ways to eliminate all noises indicating his arrival, even pulling his car into the driveway as smoothly as possible, and got used to walking around his darkened home, not doubting a second that lights switching on and off in the hallway would wake up Keith too.

Shiro removes his boots, but blinks when he finds their spot taken on the shoe rack. Even in the darkness he recognizes the dirty and broken-down sneakers: so, Lance is sleeping over? It’s rare on a weekday, but if his classes are the same as Keith’s, Shiro knows they don’t have any tomorrow morning.

He probably came to work on their project and missed the last bus, like that other time – although, that night, Shiro was there and did drive him home. Not that he couldn’t sleep over: Lance did so a few times now. Shiro still remembers Keith’s look when he asked if he should open the sofa-bed. “No, he sleeps in my room,” he had replied, with such confidence that Shiro was surprised he didn’t blush.   

Shiro places his boots next to the shoe rack, then picks up his suitcase again to put it back where it belongs, next to his desk. It’s nice to know that Keith didn’t have to spend the evening alone: Shiro did text him quickly to tell him he wouldn’t make it for dinner, but he was so caught up at work after that that he couldn’t update him much.

He glances quickly in the kitchen, but of course no dishes were left in the sink: Lance is a good boy and would always pressure Keith into cleaning up. Shiro told them it wasn’t that big of a deal, but Lance would insist, so he just let him.

Shiro walks in the hallway, socks muffling his steps, then ducks quickly in his room. He closes the door in almost perfect silence, then allows himself to sigh again: home sweet home. Of course, he’s that late because of work but… he did drink a bit. Matt dragged him to a bar after work, just for an hour or so. Said they deserved a drink after working their ass off. Honestly, Shiro did need one this time.

His mind is all over the place: he can only concentrate when drowning himself in work. Every now and then he catches himself thinking of Keith and Lance, wondering what they’re up to, how they met, how they speak to each other. It’s as if he’s becoming obsessed with them, living vicariously through them a relationship he doesn’t have.

He walks towards the bed to turn on his bedside lamp, which casts a dim light in the room. He stretches lazily as he crosses the room to reach his closet, but turns around and frown. Did he hear something just now? He waits, but only silence returns. He opens his closet, shedding his jacket.

Matt installed Tinder on his phone in the few seconds it took Shiro to tell him he might be interested in trying it out. “Your pictures are shit,” he had told him, sorting through the few, blurred pics that got downloaded from his (unused) Facebook. Shiro had managed to take his phone back before Matt could do anything more – like, write him a stupid bio – and he shoved his phone down his bag to forget all about it.

The jacket back on its hanger, Shiro unbuckle his belt, sliding it on its shelf. It takes longer than usual for his fingers to work the buckle: his few drinks are affecting him harder than he thought. It’s been a while since he drank.

He was starting to unbutton his pants, pulling his shirt out, when he heard a noise again. He turns around, scrutinizing the room. It was faint. Muffled. He takes a tentative step in the room, looking around. The noise comes again, a bit louder this time. He turns his head towards the wall, then steps quickly to his bed, kneeling on the mattress to lean against the wall.

He hears it, that reoccurring sound, frowning with the effort of identifying it… then blushes deeply when he finally does.

Those are moans.

This wall is the wall separating his room from Keith’s.

Oh god. Shiro is too shocked to move, for a second, completely dumbfounded by the realization that Keith and Lance are _having sex_. Right now. On the other side of this wall. And the moans are getting _loud_. And they don’t know he’s home.

What should he do?! Should he go back out? No, that’s stupid, he needs to sleep- but… Should he… should he tell them? What if he made some noise? Just to show he’s here? This would make things so awkward between all of them, he can’t just…

A thud makes him jump slightly, pulling away from the wall. It’s not as if he needed to be close to hear them anymore: the moans are loud enough to be discernible, some of them getting louder in rhythm with the thudding. It dawns on Shiro that the thudding sound is Keith’s bedframe hitting the wall.

Oh fuck. He’s hard now.

Shiro sits on his bed, staring at his erection pitching a tent in his pants. He needs to do something. Anything. He can’t just stay here.

His breathing is rapid, his whole body hot. Who… whose voice is this? Muffled by the wall, its pitch transformed by pleasure, it could be either one of them. Lance is pretty vocal. It could be him. Shiro lay back slowly, pulling his buttoned-up shirt completely out of his pants.

But what if it’s Keith? Is this what Keith’s voice sounds like when he’s being taken? Teased by Lance until he can’t keep his voice down, passion flaring up, his back arched by desire…

Shiro is slumped on his bed, now, his back against the wall, eyes glazed over. He lifts his shirt to put the rim of it between his teeth, baring his stomach before pushing his boxers down. He pulls his erection out with a stifled grunt, running his thumb over the head of his dick, jolting from the touch. He can feel the thuds through the wall, vibrating against his back. He shudders thinking of the strong pounding happening on the other side. His hand starts to move along the length of his shaft, following the rhythm of the moans.   

Who is doing who? Lance is the most audacious of the two, never missing a chance to pull Keith into his embrace. Maybe it started with his usual teasing and kissing, slowly but surely pushing Keith down onto the bed. Did Keith willingly remove his shirt? Did Lance undress him?

He strokes himself faster, closing his eyes to concentrate on the moans. He can picture them, now, skin glistening with sweat, lips swollen from their kisses, Lance’s thrusts strong and fast in Keith. They’re doing it missionary style – Lance would like to be able to kiss Keith, for sure – and Keith’s nails are digging into Lance’s shoulders. Keith’s face is flushed, biting his lips so that he won’t allow his traits to show his arousal, while Lance’s lips are parted, staring at him. Maybe he’s smiling, even, teasing him still. “ _You’re being noisy_ ,” he’d say, “ _what if Shiro comes back?_ ” Keith would blush and huff, “ _Shut up_ ,” he’d mutter in a moan.

“-eith-”

Shiro opens his eyes, heart beating wildly, turning his head to stick his ear to the wall. The thudding has taken a steady pace, the moans getting sharper, clearer.

“-keith-“

He heard it again, in that whiny high-pitched tone. _It’s Lance_.

Shiro’s fantasy turns on a dime. Keith is pounding into Lance, holding tightly onto his leg. Lance is stretched on the bed, arms above his head, propped against the headboard to keep himself steady. His moans are loud, unapologetic, calling Keith’s name to drive him crazy.

Shiro almost whimpers, voice stifled by the fabric in his mouth as he feels the heat in his stomach building up, legs going numb. Lance’s blue eyes staring at him, Keith’s breathing in his ear, the two of them on the brink of orgasm-

Shiro tenses up, coming suddenly all over his stomach, a deep grunt rumbling in his throat. The thuds and moans continue on the other side of the wall as he breathes heavily, still holding his shirt up with his mouth as he reaches for tissues on the bedside table. He hears a faint, strangled cry as he’s wiping himself clean, the thudding diminishing then stopping. Silence.

Shiro throws the crumpled tissues towards the trashcan, then pulls the shirt out of his mouth. Holy shit. He pulls his boxers up and groan, staring at the ceilling. Fuck. He looks at his hand, unbelieving. This felt _so good_.

 

This is really bad.    

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this first chapter! It will take a few weeks before the next one, please be patient. This fic came from a dream I had and I just thought it'd be interesting to explore. °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°


	2. Burning to ashes

“Shiro, this is hideous, please tell me you’ve never worn this.”

“He has. It was at my graduation, actually.”

“Oh, this is straight-up child abuse,” replies Lance with a disgusted look, looking at the brown, orangy suit in his hands. Shiro would protest, explain it was his father’s suit and that he didn’t have the time – okay, didn’t _take_ the time – to go buy a more recent-looking one, but he’s too flustered about the fact that Keith and Lance are in his room, rummaging through his clothes.

Shiro is leaning against the doorframe, too intimidated to step inside with them. His gaze kept coming back to his bed, where he had, some weeks before, jacked off to them having _really loud sex_.

The image of them haunted him for days, as he caught glimpses of half-hidden hickeys, was shaken by their casual sighs or grunts and he would bite his lip every time he heard Lance call Keith’s name. 

In the past few days, Shiro literally went through the 5 stages of grief: he first tried to convince himself it was all a dream while doing more overtime to avoid meeting the boys together. Then he had to face the facts and got mad at himself for such misconduct, before trying to justify his actions way too much – they’re all adults, it’s not like he could have _not_ heard them, he’s a pent-up gay man, everyone has fantasies that they can’t share with others, etc. Then he got very disappointed in himself: to his shame, he did jack off a few more times to the memory of it. But in the end, he finally had to come true to himself: he’s attracted to Lance and Keith, just as much as he was compelled by their couple itself.

How could he not? Lance is all lean muscles and bright smiles, always behaving in that dorky boyish way that is so endearing and sexy all the same. And those eyes! Those blue eyes just make you want to lay by the pool and admire how the sunlight shines on that golden skin of his.

And Keith- gosh, it is ridiculous how he has spent years looking at him as a kid, and he suddenly sees him as a man. A very, very attractive man. The carefree way his raven-colored hair falls on his even darker eyes, the softness of his smile when he gazes upon Lance, the way the sleeves of his jacket hides away the firm well-built muscles in his arms…

Honestly, it feels wrong to think of Keith as being this sexy. Shiro feels guilt every time he thinks of Keith this way, always trying to remind himself of their filiation: entertaining these thoughts can only break the trust in their relationship, right? And so, he shouldn’t.

This is what motivated him to get serious about this tinder thing: he can’t just go and get feelings for taken people nilly-willy (no matter how hot they are). So he better find someone for himself soon.

Looking over his tinder profile, though, he did come to the same conclusion as Matt : it was unappealing. He didn’t know what to write as a bio, his three kind-of-okay pics were all old – one was missing the scar on his nose, he still had black hair on them and not to mention _two arms_ – and he didn’t have any recent pictures to replace them with.

He had resolved himself to casually ask Keith if he had taken any pics of him lately (he does take sneaky pictures when they go out) which led to an interrogation – “Why do you need that?” – which led to a confession – “Actually, do you know that Tinder app?” – which led to a call to Lance because he’s apparently “Very good at that kind of crap” – Keith’s words, not his.

And there they are, only a few hours later, all gathered in Shiro’s room. Turns out that not only is Lance good at “that kind of crap”, but he _loves_ “that kind of crap”. He’s digging excitedly in Shiro’s closet, commenting on everything, throwing ideas of pictures around as he found pieces he liked.

Shiro would have expected Keith to be disinterested, leaning on the wall or something, but he’s surprised Shiro once again by participating in the search, commenting on some things or silently presenting pieces to Lance. Shiro isn’t sure if Keith is enjoying this or only pretending to because Lance is obviously into it.

Lance throws some new finds in the “Good enough” pile, which is, sadly, way smaller than the “Not a chance” pile. Not gonna lie: this hurts Shiro’s ego a big. But he hasn’t shopped for casual wear in a while so, it’s probably a sign that he should.

“Not to sound impatient,” he pipes up nonetheless, “but aren’t there enough clothes to do something decent, already?”

Lance turns to him with a serious expression, raising a finger. “I don’t do _decent_ : I do _perfect_.” Shiro blinks, surprised by the exaggerated tone, then burst into laughter. Lance smiles. “Sit your butt down if you’re bored, but I’ll be taking out aaaaall the good clothes.”

“Lance,” comes Keith’s voice, half-amused, half-discouraged. He looks at the other with a knowing look and Lance rolls his eyes. “Fiiiine, I guess we’ll do _decent_ today, then.”

“Just make a perfect out of it, hm?” Keith smiles, patting Lance’s cheek and Shiro laughs again. “I think making me look decent is already a challenge, don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

Both boys turn to him.

“What? You’re okay,” says Keith, immediately.

“Come on, man,” replies Lance, looking discouraged by Keith’s poor hype-man skills.  He turns to Shiro, wiggling an eyebrow. “You’re a natural 8/10, dude.”

“Lance…” Keith nudges him.

“9/10.”

“Lance. Stop.” Keith is laughing, despite his slightly flushed cheeks. Lance pulls his tongue out, then bends over to pick up the selected clothes.

Shiro is rubbing the back of his head, looking down to hide his own flushed cheeks. He knew Lance was a charmer. He’s seen and heard him flirt with Keith, Hunk _and_ Pidge multiple times. He just never expected Lance to come at him. And those simple words have a greater effect than expected.

His heart is beating fast, his face warm. He knows he’s not bad looking – thanks mom and dad for the good genes – but as the years went by… with his body and face being scarred in the line of duty, with his hair whitening because of his sick body’s deterioration and his arm removed to stop the illness affecting his muscles, his self-image did take a big hit. And to have a young, pretty guy just casually mention how handsome he is, well… it sure is something. Even Keith saying he’s okay is something to be slightly embarrassed about: that small comment is quite a big compliment coming from such a quiet guy.

“Heads up.”

Shiro glances up just in time to catch the sweater that’s been thrown at him. Wooly and warm-colored, it is quite old, but Lance had commented that ‘ugly sweaters are back in style’ and Shiro doesn’t even want to try and understand that logic.

“So this is the final choice?”

“This,” says Lance, pointing the sweater, “is the _first_ outfit.” He holds the rest of the clothes in his arms, slipping past Shiro with a smile. “Get changed, then come in the living room!” The Cuban boy disappears in the corridor just like that, without waiting for an answer on Shiro’s part. Shiro laughs, shaking his head a bit, completely taken aback by this whole situation.

“You know, if you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to go through all that,” mutters Keith, next to him. His arms are crossed over his chest and he’s staring at Shiro. Shiro smiles. “Don’t worry. I’m definitely out of my comfort zone, but it’s not a bad thing.” Keith stares at him for a second, then look at the clothes on the bed, shrugging.

“Can you hold this for me?” Shiro puts his sweater on Keith’s crossed arms, not actually waiting for an answer, before pulling his T-shirt over his head. He throws it on his bed before turning to Keith to take the sweater he’s now holding out for him. “Thanks,” he says, once his head pop out of the collar.

“No sweat,” replies Keith, shrugging, before walking toward the corridor. Shiro follows him, placing his shirt and notices how Keith’s ears have turned red. Is it hot in here? He did turn up the heating, because of the cold forecast. Or does it just look that way because of the dimness of the hallway? He doesn’t really have the time to ponder this, as his attention is taken by Lance, moving furniture around in the living room.

“You’re too into this,” comments Keith, helping Lance move the armchair anyway. Lance laughs, dropping the chair where he wants it to be. “I always give my all,” he says, winking. He casually put his hand on Keith’s lower back, observing his work with a critical gaze, his other hand holding his chin.

Shiro feels his heart fluttering to the sight of their casual touches, noticing how Keith leans slightly on Lance’s shoulder, but he stifles the butterflies until his heartbeat steadies: he won’t let himself entertain this unhealthy obsession any longer.

“I guess it’s okay,” declares Lance, stepping back. “What are you going for?” asks Keith, looking at the set up : Lance moved the chair by the window and cleared the desk’s staked books so that they line up neatly on the windowsill. “Something casual with good lighting,” replies Lance, throwing a blanket on the arm of the chair. “That’ll do it,” shrugs Keith, trying to be encouraging. Shiro smiles before running his hand through his hair. “So, I’m just supposed to sit there and let you work your magic?”

Lance looks up to him with a delighted smile, twinkle in his eye. “Now you get it,” he says, before doing a flourish to invite Shiro to sit down. Shiro laughs, and walks up to the chair, sitting heavily on it before looking up to the boys.

Lance is holding up his cellphone, looking intently at the screen and tapping from time to time. Keith is slightly behind his left shoulder, peering on the screen too. He stretches an arm over Lance’s shoulder to tap at the screen. “That looks better,” he explains in a semi-whisper, observing the screen. It’s only when he hears the sound of a shutter that Shiro realises they were staring at him through the phone’s camera all along. Oh shit. What did his face look like? Was he weird? He was looking at them because he thought they were too concentrated on whatever they were doing to notice _him_.

He looks at the books on the windowsill, blushing slightly in his panic. “No, no, no, you gotta look over here, Shiro,” chides Lance, like a mother reminding her son of manners. Shiro feels awkward to be the center of attention, but complies and smiles nonetheless. Multiple shutter sounds are heard as Lance presses the camera button on his phone. Keith cocks his head to the side, looking unimpressed, somehow; ain’t that encouraging.

“Hey, Shiro,” begins Lance, still looking at his phone. Shiro raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

“What disease do you get when you decorate for Christmas?”

Shiro blinks, confused. “ _What?_ ”

“Tinselitus!”

The heavy silence is only broken by Keith’s groan. “That was very bad,” he comments, looking at Lance with pity in his eyes. “Aw, come on. What’s a pepper that won’t leave you alone?” asks Lance, not letting himself be discouraged.

“Nooo, I hate bad jokes,” whines Keith, stomping towards the corridor. “Shiro, come on!” insists Lance, a ridiculously cute smile on his face, and Shiro can’t help but smile himself. “Okay, what do you call that?”

“ _Jalapeno business_!”

There’s a beat of silence, then Shiro cracks up. That joke is so bad! This is not funny at all! But Lance’s _stupid face_ \- jesus. You _know_ he’d make finger guns if he wasn’t holding a phone.

“Don’t encourage him!” shouts Keith from the hallway, as Lance takes pictures, laughing like a super villain whose plan succeeded. Shiro is about to reply, trying to think up something clever, but Lance has a sudden exclamation as his phone starts ringing a very catchy tune.

“Sorry, gotta take this-“ he says quickly, slipping past Keith to get out of the room, “hey Veronica, what’s up?”

Keith stares at him leaning on the kitchen counter before coming back to the living room. Shiro leans back on the chair, smiling at him. “Does he tell these jokes often?” Keith roll his eyes, sitting on the arm of the chair. “No. Thank god.”

“They’re bad.”

“ _So_ bad.”

They both snicker, but then the conversation dies. Shiro taps his fingers slightly on the windowsill, looking at Keith. Shiro feels… uncomfortable? Silence has never been a big deal with them. They’re both pretty quiet guys. But somehow, it feels different right now. Maybe it’s just the hole left by Lance’s energy moving out of the room. They can still hear his voice: he’s laughing. Shiro taps his fingers again. Yup. Definitely uncomfortable.

“Why aren’t you the one taking pictures?” he asks, trying to get the conversation back on.

Keith blinks, turning his head to look at him. “Why would I be?”

“Don’t you like it? Photography.”

“Not particularly,” he shrugs. Shiro puts his chin in his hand, raising his eyebrows. “You’re always taking pictures when we go out.” Keith shrugs again, then turns to the hallway. “I prefer candids,” he mutters. Shiro isn’t sure what a candid is, but Keith doesn’t seem inclined to elaborate. He glances towards the kitchen, then leans back again.

“He’s taking his time.” He’s still uneasy with this silence.

“It’s his sister,” replies Keith, swinging one of his legs absent-mindedly.

“He has a sister?”

“Yeah. She worked with you, actually.”

“What?” Shiro straightens up, brows furrowed. Keith looks at him. “Yeah. Veronica McClain? She worked at the base too.”

“Wait- Veronica is Lance’s sister? Seriously?”

“I don’t know how many Veronicas you work with, but, yeah, Lance’s sister is also military.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Keith raises an eyebrow and shrugs once more. “Didn’t seem that important. She transferred anyway.”

Well, no doubt: they’re talking of the same Veronica. A good officer and a great colleague: a real trooper. Tall, dark-skinned, curly hair and incredibly lively: he sees the resemblance. Her eyes weren’t as blue, though… wait a minute. Didn’t he… see one of Veronica’s brothers before?

“Yes, she got transferred last year,” confirms Shiro, slowly, still piecing things together. “But, wait… Why did Lance come all the way over here to study? Their family lives some states over, no?”

“He told me there were no college near their farm, so he came over here ‘cause he could live with his sister.”

“But, she’s gone?”

“He still lives in her apartment, though.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah.”

Shiro is kind of blown away. He did think Lance’s place was in a district a bit too expensive for students… He’d assumed he had some roommates: Lance seems like the kind of guy who’d get lonely living on his own. Guess he’s more independent than he thought.

Wait.

Wait a minute. If Lance lives on his own, why are Keith and him always over here? Why are they having _sex_ over here?! Where he can walk on them? Has Keith spent even one night out since he’s introduced Lance to him? Jesus… He’s fully judging their decisions. He was way more careful than them when he was dating and still living with his parents... 

“Alright, I’m back!” Lance is coming out of the kitchen, all smiles. Keith gets up. “Was it about Christmas?”

“Yeah. They all talked about it and Luis will come and pick me up.”

“What, with a car? Isn’t that like _hours_?”

“Yeah, well, plane tickets are expensive, so… Luis said I could pay him gas money instead. It’s gonna be like a roadtrip, it’ll be fun!”

Lance looks really happy: it must be hard on him to live this far from his family. Shiro smiles, but he feels something heavy in his stomach: disappointment. He had just assumed… assumed that Lance would be with them for Christmas. Just like he organized that birthday party for Keith. He had thought he’d be, for sure, all up in their life with Christmas cheers for everybody. But, well, if he gets to spend that time with his family, it’s just as well.

“Now, Shiro,” continues Lance, pulling Shiro from his thoughts, “go change into that shirt, I’m not done with you!”

Shiro laughs, getting up from the armchair. “If this is what it takes to get a date,” he sighs dramatically, picking the shirt from Lance’s hands. Keith scoffs, but does not comment, going to the kitchen. Shiro raises an eyebrow, amused.

“Seems like I’m embarrassing him,” he says with a chuckle, turning towards Lance. Lance seems taken aback by the comment – why did he look kinda sad, right then? – and laughs softly. “Yeah, looks like it. Alright, get on with it, come on!” He pushes Shiro towards the room.

 

* * *

 

The pancake flips in the air and comes back to the pan with a thump and a sizzle. Excited cheers come from the mic of the phone as Lance’s whole family applauds Shiro’s culinary skills. Lance gets in the frame with Shiro, smiling wide to his relatives. “That’s right, folks. I’m going to learn aaaaaall of Shiro’s tricks and make you some wicked pancakes this spring.” Shiro laughs and shakes his head, embarrassed to be praised for such a silly thing. Keith appears next to Lance, looking straight in the phone’s camera. “Don’t get too excited, I doubt Lance can manage to cook anything good,” he says, with a deadpan serious expression. The family laughs once more, the video feed bugging and crackling for a second as they agree and share stories about how bad of a cook Lance is.

“Keith, shut up!” complaints Lance, betrayed, pushing Keith to the side. “Shiro believes in me, right?” He turns to the cook as he says so, making puppy eyes at him. Shiro shows a thumbs up, amused. “If I can do it with one arm, you’ll get the hang of it for sure,” he comments. Lance seems satisfied and turns back to his phone. “See? Just you wait, guys.”

“You’re too kind to him, Shiro,” comes Veronica’s voice through the phone. It’s weird for Shiro to see her in a silly Christmas jumper: he’s only seen her at work before. Those jumpers must be some sort of McClain family tradition, because Lance is also wearing a ridiculously festive pullover. “Thank you for hosting him, last minute like this…” adds Lance’s mother, sincerely grateful. Shiro slides the last pancake in the plate before waving his hand. “Ah, it’s nothing. If anything, he makes our Christmas morning livelier.”

“I’m the real Christmas miracle,” chimes Lance, doing some finger guns at the camera. His mother laughs fondly and Lance steps away in the kitchen, talking more privately with his family. Keith looks at him as he picks up the plate of pancakes. He’s smiling. Well, Shiro gets it : he’s also happy Lance is here.

Even though it’s from unlucky circumstances.

Lance was looking forward the holidays with his family; he was so excited, packing a ton of gifts tightly in his bags. But, as it often happens in winter, a sudden storm changed everybody’s plans.

Roads are icy and dangerous, schools are closed, and they’re pretty much snowed in by this point. Apparently, there was some heavy hail, too, in Lance’s hometown. Lance decided to cancel the whole “roadtrip”, because there would be no Christmas if Luis and him died on the way.

Even though he decided so himself, he did become pouty and wallow in self-pity for a while. That is, until Keith told him he was stupid to think he’d be alone and that of course he’s invited to the Shirogane household for the holidays. And, as such, Lance appeared on their doorstep with heavy bags, as though moving out for months, even though he’ll stay over only for a few days.

Shiro was the one to let him in. He was a bit concerned about how happy he felt when he saw him through the window: a sort of euphoria rush, a weird spark of affection, as if they had suddenly adopted a puppy and the family grew bigger.

Well, it kind of is the case, isn’t it?

“I gotta go grab breakfast now, so, uuuuh, keep an eye out for your gifts; I’ll mail them as soon as I can, and I’ll call you again Tuesday, maybe?” concludes Lance with his family, while Keith and Shiro finish placing breakfast on the living room’s coffee table.

Lance walks back into the room and almost throws himself to the floor in his excitement. “Oh my god, I’m starving!”

“You talked for a long time,” concede Shiro, putting a pancake in Lance’s plate, but Keith steals it right away. “Yeah,” he says, biting into the pancake, pointing an accusing finger at Lance, “so long you didn’t help _at all_ with breakfast!”

“Keeeeith, it’s Christmas, be nice to meee,” whines Lance, stretching over the table to try and catch his pancake. Keith smiles, keeping it just out of reach. “But have you been a _good boy_ , Lance?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, and in that exact moment Shiro just totally drops his spatula. His fingers just – whoop – let go of it, and he ducks down to pick it up.

That obvious flirt makes his ears burn red: if he thought Lance was a heartthrob, he sure wasn’t ready for Keith, holy shit- He didn’t even know his voice could sound so- just- could sound like _that_. And for him to say something so outrageous so casually, it’s just-

He looks up to the others, spatula in hand; Keith stuffed the pancake in his mouth and Lance is threatening to keep the whole pancake plate to himself, both flipping each other off like children. They look completely unphased…

His face slowly turns crimson.

…why, of course they are. What Keith said was just a normal, topical quip to say on Christmas morning. Only Shiro perceived it as dirty talk. Because he’s a pervert. Oh my god, he’s mortified. He can’t even blame his being pent-up anymore: he did hook up with a guy from tinder a few days back. It was a bit awkward at first – it’s been so long since he’s been on a date – but all in all it was pretty great once they got in bed. He felt refreshed, confident, ready to move on from Lance and Keith… So why is he still having these thoughts? Jesus.

He somehow manages to serve breakfast normally, before sitting down with them. Even in their atypical situation, Shiro and Keith have their own traditions: Christmas morning is always spent in the living room, sharing breakfast near their – now very old – artificial Christmas tree, with the tv holidays specials running in the background. Nothing very exciting, but it’s theirs. Well, theirs and Lance’s, today.

Lance, who scarfs down his food at the speed of light, clearly in another pace than theirs. Keith just looks at him go, sipping on his coffee with raised eyebrows. Lance concludes his meal with a big gulp of coffee, then turns expectant eyes towards Keith.

“I finished my meal,” he says.

“I see that,” Keith replies.

“So it’s time for gifts, right?”

“Are you a kid?”

“It’s Christmas morning!”

“Yeah. It’s breakfast. Take your time.”

“Aw come on! I want my gift!” Lance lets himself fall on the floor, looking up at Keith. “You teased me about it for so long, I want to know what it iiiis!”

“A few more minutes won’t kill you,” sighs Keith, hiding his smile behind his cup. Shiro always wonders why Keith can’t be more honest with his feelings. Of course, his heavy trusts issues get in the way but… what’s so bad about showing others you’re happy? Keith is one of these people who only let their feelings show when they think nobody is looking. Shiro quickly noticed how much he smiles when Lance’s has his back turned. He wonders what face Keith makes when he has his back turned to him…

“Yes, it will. I’m dead. I’ve died. You killed me. On Christmas day.” Lance lets his arms flop dramatically in a cross, closing his eyes and pulling his tongue out. Shiro snorts and chokes on his pancake, going into a couching fit. “Oh shit, are you okay?” asks Lance, propping himself on his elbows. Keith reaches out, putting a hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “You good?”

“Yep,” assures Shiro, waving a reassuring hand while taking a sip of his own cup to help the pancake pass. “I’m good. But I think that you should give him his gift, Keith, or _I’ll_ be the one dying.”

Keith burst into laughter and roll his eyes. “Okay, okay. I’m only doing this for your safety,” he says, stretching over to the tree to pick up a badly wrapped, vaguely rectangular, gift. Lance throws his hands in the air, whooping in delight. He straightens himself to take the present Keith is offering him, smiling brightly. He pats the shape, taking the affected expression of an art connoisseur. “It’s soft,” he begins, “with some thicker parts here and there, so it _must_ be some sort of fabric…”

“Oh my god, Lance, just open the damn thing!” Keith loses patience easily, but he’s still smiling. Shiro stifles a laugh to avoid putting him even more on edge. Lance grins, tearing through the paper to pull out the bundle of fabric inside. For a second, he looks confused, turning it around, but then seems to recognise the logo on it and lights up. “What! I thought they only sold this t-shirt during the tour?” He has stars in his eyes, unfolding the t-shirt rapidly. Shiro guesses it must be Lance’s favorite band, or something – although he himself has never heard of them before. Keith shrugs, his fist pressed against his lips and Shiro knows he’s nervous: he keeps an eye on Lance, wondering what’s the matter.

Lance is pulling his jumper over his head and Shiro has to huff once to blow away the heat coming to his face, trying not to look at his bare chest for too long. Although the clear freckles all over his shoulders and stomach makes it hard to turn away… Lance puts on the t-shirt and spread his arms wide. “Do I look good?”

“You do,” comments Shiro, before even thinking. Lance looks surprised, but his smile widens. Keith nods. “You’ll look better in it at the show,” he says in a tense trying-to-be-cool-about-it tone, while pulling a pair of tickets from under the table. Lance slams his hands on the coffee table, plates and cutlery clinking. “SHUT. UP.” He gets to his knees, taking the tickets from Keith’s hand to look at it, as if it could be fake. “Are you fucking serious?!”

It’s endearing to see him so blown away by this, like a kid who’s just been told they’re going to Disneyworld. Well… Lance would probably have the same reaction if they were, indeed, going to Disneyworld.

Lance’s up to his feet now, circling the table to stand near Keith, in awe. “We’re going to see them at the concert hall?” Keith nods. “This summer, yeah.” There is a second of stillness, where Lance is processing the information, but then he suddenly picks Keith’s face with two hands, bending over to kiss him. Shiro chuckles, amused by the scene, but then… aaah, why does his brain always go down this rabbit hole?

He can’t help but notice their flushed cheeks, the slight movements of their mouths, the way Keith’s hand reaches out to pull Lance closer… Keith and Lance seem to have forgotten themselves, for a moment, in their own little bubble, as Lance slowly kneels down. Keith’s hands are clasped on his hips, pulling him towards him and-

-fuck. Shit. Shiro crosses his legs, hoping for the fold in his jeans to cover his sudden boner. He clears his throat a bit too loudly, picking up his coffee, and the boys seems to snap out of it. Lance breathes in then laugh. “Thank you,” he finally says, “I love it.” Keith laughs. “Great. It’s been a pain to keep the surprise.”

“Seems like you did a good job,” mentions Shiro, trying to sound normal and keep his mind out of the gutter. Lance gets up, face still a bit flushed, but clap in his hands. “Okay, it’s my turn!” He turns to the Christmas tree, bending to pick up a small rectangular box and a medium sized bag. “Here’s for you, babe,” he says, offering the box to Keith, “and that’s yours,” he concludes, giving the bag to Shiro. Shiro blinks, taken by surprise.

“…for me?”

“Yeah,” replies Lance, offering the bag once more.

“Th-thank you, but, uh, I haven’t- I didn’t think you’d-“

“It’s okay Shiro, just take it,” assures Lance, laughing. “Keith helped me chose it, so it’s technically from us both.” Shiro picks up the bag, throwing a glance to Keith. Keith is staring right back at him, amused.

“Alright, then, let’s see…” he says with a sigh, digging into the decorative paper to pull out the present. Red fabrics, that unfolds into one of those shawl-collar cardigans that people wear to official events. It actually looks… really good. Shiro laughs. “Is it because of my wardrobe?”

“Gotta put you on the right track somehow,” declares Lance, with a patronizing look. Shiro shakes his head, amused but still a bit insulted. “Come on, try it on! If it’s not the right size I can go back to the store.”

“It’s the right size,” guarantees Keith, but Shiro is already unbuttoning the cardigan to put it over his shirt. Keith reaches for him out of habits, and helps him button back the cardigan – the fabric is always kind of stiff when it’s new and it’s pretty hard to button with one hand. He even places the empty sleeve for him, so that it’d lie flat instead of looking twisted. “Thanks,” says Shiro, before straightening himself. “So, how does it look?”

“Great,” comes Keith.

“Perfect,” adds Lance. His eyes go wide. “OH MY GOD.”

“What?” Keith frowns. “Wait a minute, stay there-“ continues Lance, going out of the living room. It doesn’t even take a few seconds that he’s back with a red Santa hat and a huge smile on his lips. “Shiro! Shiro, put this on!”

“Are you for real?” Shiro laughs, taking the hat. “I get it, I have white hair, I’m wearing red…” He puts the hat on before doing a flourish with his hand. Keith chuckles and Lance does a thumbs up. “Christmas ain’t complete without Santa, right?” says Lance, crouching near Shiro. “Yeah, I guess s- what are you doing?”

“Why, of course,” says Lance, sliding in between Shiro and the table, “I want to sit on Santa’s lap.”

Uh oh. No, no, no. “Lance, this is, uh-“

“Lance, come on.” This is Keith, now, not very amused, but Lance doesn’t let himself be discouraged and sits on Shiro’s lap, pulling his cellphone out. “What? I just want to send a picture to Veronica!” He taps on his screen, while Shiro tries to move ever so slightly to avoid the awkwardness of a discovered boner. “And to Hunk. And Pidge; I just want a picture, okay?” Lance laughs and Keith sighs, torn between resignation and embarrassment.

Shiro is not really attentive to them, too concentrated on calming down. Is this a normal thing that can just happen? To sit on some guys laps? _Platonically_? Maybe it’s because he’s not much of a demonstrative, touchy guy, but this is… this never happened to him in this sort of context. And Lance is just… sitting there, and his erection won’t go down, holy shit.

Lance finally holds his phone up, and leans back against Shiro’s chest to get them both in the frame. “Alright, Shiro, say ‘Santa’!” Shiro manages to smile somewhat normally, even though his ears are bright red. Please let Lance be satisfied, please, please, please-

“Thank you~” he chimes, turning towards him with a warm smile. “You’re welcome. Now, can you…?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Lance chuckles and gets up, only to sit down in between Shiro and Keith, nudging the later with his shoulder. “Hey, open your gift too!”

Shiro’s heart is beating wildly. That was close. He buries himself in pancakes. Calm down, calm down, calm down. Don’t think of Lance’s slender frame and the fresh smell of his shampoo. Keith is tearing the paper, then drops the top of the box on the table before huffing a laugh. Shiro looks up, curious about that reaction, to see Keith holding a switchblade knife. What the hell?!

Keith seems to see the shock on his face, because he burst into laughter. “Relax, Shiro. It’s from an antique shop.” He closes the blade before handing it to him. Shiro takes it with a frown, looking at the casing. It does look pretty old : ornate, worn out on the edges… still elegant in its own way. The blade isn’t dull at all, though. “Why, uh, why a knife?” asks Shiro with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow. Lance looks at Keith. “Well, we saw it in a shop, once, and Keith seemed to like it.”

“It’s cool.” Keith smiles, taking it back from Shiro to look at it again. “So you like it?” asks Lance, a bit of worry in his voice. “Yeah, I love it,” replies Keith, smiling at him. Lance seems relieved and kisses him. “Merry Christmas. Don’t bring that gift to the concert, though.” Keith laughs and taps his cheek. “Yeah, no, I won’t.”

Lance smiles and looks at Shiro and Keith in alternance. “So… don’t you guys have gifts too?” Keith and Shiro looks at each other with raised eyebrows. Keith points towards his room. “Well, uh, Shiro paid for half of my new laptop back in September.” Lance looks at Shiro.

Shiro shrugs. “Keith gave me bags of my favorite coffee beans yesterday.”

“Oh.” Lance nods, understanding, and raises an eyebrow. “I guess this is what living together does to ya.”

Shiro laughs. “I guess so.”

Lance looks at Keith, then reaches over to steal a bit of pancake from his plate. “Wha-Lance? You had your own!” Lance stuffs the pancake in his mouth and raises his fists in victory, taking revenge for earlier. Their usual bickering starts again.

Shiro sighs, relieved.

 

* * *

 

The electric kettle’s button pop, water finally warm. Shiro picks it up to pour it over the honey and lemon in the big cup with the military logo. He hears footsteps in the hallway, coming closer, and turns to see Keith going towards the entryway. “Where are you going?” Shiro asks, putting the kettle down. Keith picks up his coat from the hanger. “The drugstore,” he says, putting his coat on. Shiro frowns.

“How’s Lance?”

“Oh, he says he’s okay, but he just took the last pill, so,” he shrugs, zipping up his coat, “I’m gonna go buy some more medicine. Just in case.”

Shiro nods, a small smile on his lips. Keith is so concerned. New year had only just arrived that Lance got sick. At first Shiro and Keith teased him, mocking his weakness to alcohol, believing he just had some wicked hangover. But then Lance came down with a bad fever and fits of nausea he’d rather not recall, so, well… they felt really bad about it and kept mothering him since. He was supposed to go back to his own place, but they insisted he stayed: after all, he lives alone and it sucks to deal with sickness on your own.

“Well, be careful, okay? Roads are icy.”

Keith dismisses the comment, picking up the keys and making sure he has his cellphone and wallet. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” Shiro waves a hand, seeing him out, then goes back to the kitchen. He stirs up the lemon and honey before picking it up to go to Keith’s room. Lance is on Keith’s bed, still in his pjs, an arm thrown over his eyes. Shiro puts the cup down carefully on the side table, but Lance must notice him, because he removes his arm from his face. He’s got dark circles under his eyes, but smiles wide.

“Heeey, Shiro.”

“Mind if I sit?” he asks, pointing the bed. Lance opens his arms, inviting. “It’s your house.” Shiro laughs and sits down on the edge of the bed, looking at the other. “Shouldn’t you be _under_ the sheets?” he asks. Lance shakes his head, chuckling. “No, huh, I got ‘the sweats’ right now.” Shiro frown. “Do you still have a fever?” He puts his hand over Lance’s forehead as he speaks. Lance shrugs. “At this point, I don’t even know.”

“Well, you’re warm…”

“Wrong : I’m _hot_.”

Shiro blinks, looking at Lance’s eyes under his hand and Lance laughs. “Sorry, my brain is fried, so my jokes are, uh, meh.” Shiro laughs also, a bit awkward: he must get used to Lance’s coming-onto-everyone humor. He takes his hand back, putting it on his thigh. “Well, you just took some medicine, right? It’ll surely help soon.”

“Yeaaah, I guess.” Lance sighs, closing his eyes. “Being sick suuuucks.” He slides a hand under his shirt to scratch his side, raising the hem of it. The freckles on his stomach are visible again. It’s kind of cute, actually: they’re so visible on the paler hue of his belly. They’re sparse, but gets more concentrated near his hips…

“Shiro.”

“Huh?” Shiro snaps out of it, realizing that Lance is staring at him. “Sorry, what?”

“You okay?” he asks. Shiro can’t quite identify the look on his face. He nods, trying to seem normal. “Yeah, of course I’m okay.” Lance is observing him, silent. Unusually serious, Shiro feels. He straightens himself, sitting up. “Hey, Shiro, can I ask you something?”

“Ask away,” he answers, cocking his head to the side. He’s curious about what could possibly bring that kind of look to Lance’s face. Lance plays with his fingers, seeming a bit tense, but then props himself by putting his hands on the bed, behind him. He smiles. “Is it… annoying to have me over so often?”

“What?” Shiro’s eyebrows shoot up. “Of course not. What even- why?” Lance shrugs, bringing his arms on his lap, hunching forward a bit. “I don’t know, it’s just… you and Keith are used to being together, so…”

Shiro had noticed, sometimes, a few cracks in Lance’s confidence: he’d doubt himself, or look uneasy without saying anything. He probably needs a bit of reassurance. In its own way, it’s kinda cute. “Lance, having you over is no problem at all.” Shiro puts his hand on his shoulder. “It’s always a pleasure.” Lance cocks his head to the side, smiling. “I guess it means you kinda like me, huh?” Shiro laughs. “Of course I like you Lance, you’re great.” Lance’s ears are red. Shiro puts his hand on his forehead once more, to make sure he’s not feverish. He does feel hot… but Lance pushes his hand away, bending forward to put his hand on Shiro’s knee.

“Hey, Shiro, the other day…” he begins in a low voice that takes Shiro by surprise, “on Christmas, you… you were hard, right?”

Shiro feels a rush of adrenaline wash over him like an electrified wave. He has the reflex to move away, but Lance’s hand tightens slightly on his leg. His mouth hangs open, at a loss for words, and he can’t help but feel that Lance _definitely_ has a fever: how can someone asks something like that out of the blue?

Lance gets closer, insistent. “You were, right? Was it… because of me? Or…” Shiro stutters, unable to say anything coherent. What is he even supposed to say?! That he got a boner from looking at the both of them? That he’s attracted to him _and_ Keith? That he’s so into them, he can’t even control his own damn body?

Lance’s hand creeps up his leg and it’s only when he grabs his groin through his sweatpants that Shiro notices he’s got an erection. He breathes in sharply, grabbing Lance’s arm. “Wait,” he begins, but Lance gets closer, interrupting him in a whisper. “Why? You don’t want this?” Lance is massaging him through his clothes and his face is burning up.

“It’s- it’s not that I- of course I- fuck-“ He’s fully hard now, his heart beating wildly, his body on fire. He can’t believe how excited he is right now – a single touch and he’s twitching. Lance’s breath is rapid, his blue eyes heavy lidded and he looks so fucking sexy-

Lance is bending over now, tugging at Shiro’s pants to pull his dick out. Shiro’s hand hovers, uncertain of what he’s supposed to do. Does he want to stop him? Does he want to encourage him? Just the feeling of his fingers against his bare skin is _so damn good_ …

Lance props his head against his stomach and just suddenly runs his tongue from the base to the head of his dick without any warning. Shiro gasps, taking a fistful of Lance’s hair. Lance looks up to him, running his tongue around the head of his cock and all rationality just fly out the window. “Fuck, Lance-“ Shiro groans, pulling Lance’s head forward and Lance opens his mouth wider to take his dick in. His mouth is burning hot and his lips are soft as silk- _shit_.

Shiro is bent forward, looming over Lance as he’s sucking him off : he doesn’t have another hand to stabilize himself if he leans back and, well, fuck he doesn’t want to let go! He’s been thinking of this – fantasizing – for so long now, he can’t help but encourage Lance’s movements. Lance rapidly takes his dick in deeper, burying his face between Shiro’s legs and Shiro lets out the loudest moan, throwing his head back.

He didn’t feel this good with that Tinder guy. He didn’t make that much noise with that Tinder guy. He didn’t want to fuck that Tinder guy as badly as he wants to fuck Lance. It’s because he doesn’t feel anything for that damn Tinder guy: he’s into Lance!

Lance only pulls off to take quick gaspy breaths, desperately trying to take Shiro further down his throat, stifling his moans as not to gag. His fingers are working about Shiro’s balls and thighs and he squirms, his legs obviously shifting to make his own erection more comfortable. Shiro groans, even more aroused to see Lance getting this excited from blowing him. “Lance,” he calls, voice raspy, tugging on his hair to control his rhythm. “Lance…” the name melts off his lips as Lance complies to his pace. He’s close, so close, just a bit more…

He shudders, falling forward and draping Lance under him. His moan drowns out Lance’s whimper, Lance’s hands grasping at Shiro’s clothes. Shiro’s out of breath, sweat on his forehead. He slowly straightens himself, letting go of Lance’s hair. Lance pulls back and lets his head lean on Shiro’s thigh, rubbing at his swollen lips with the back of his hand, breathing heavily. Shiro brushes Lance’s hair out of his face, speaking slowly.

“Fuck, Lance, that was…” he raises his head, looking for the right word, but freezes up as he notices the person in the doorframe.

“Keith?”

Keith jumps, startled, and stares at Shiro. He seems horrified. He lets the bag he was holding drop on the ground and bolts in the hallway. Shiro gets up by reflex, pushing Lance aside. “Keith!” He stumbles into the hallway, pulling his sweatpants up, but he hears the front door slam before even reaching the entryway. Shiro opens the door, only to see that Keith already pulled out the car from the driveway. He breathes in, as if to call after him once more, but Keith is already taking a turn down the street and he sighs instead.

Keith was still wearing his coat – and boots? – when he stood in the doorway… He came back and he heard them and he walked right up to the door without him even noticing. And Lance-

Shit. Shiro turns around, walking back to the bedroom. He almost steps on the discarded bag; he bends over to pick it up. Medicine and chocolate.

They- Shiro and Lance, they just... Lance cheated on Keith. With him. They just cheated on Keith. A cold piercing guilt creeps up his guts. He feels sick. How could he do that? He didn’t even think for a second about Keith. He’s never been that kind of guy, but he just- God damn it. Shiro looks over to the bed. That sad sight is one more stab of guilt.

Lance is laying on his back, both arms over his head, hiding his face. He’s shaking like a leaf. Shiro gets closer, slowly, putting down the bag on the bedside table. “Lance,” he begins, voice soft, uncertain of what to say, but Lance only turns to the side, showing his back to him. Closed off.

Shiro runs his hand through his hair. What _the fuck_ has he done?

The honey-lemon cup has gone cold.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I wasn't sure about writing about infidelity, but the idea for this story seemed interesting to me and I had to try it out. Tell me your thoughts! Stay tuned for the next and final chapter of this story! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)


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